Chapter 108: The Red Room
"The First Lady..." Jonathan said, his voice low, the words landing like a thunderclap. A deafening silence followed, the room’s musky scent and cigar smoke closing in, the soft hum of the city outside the windows swallowed by the weight of his revelation.
He stared at me, his grin awkward, his eyes flickering with unease, his cigar paused mid-air, sweat beading on his brow. I gave him a blank stare, my face frozen, my mind reeling, the name—the First Lady—echoing in my skull. We blinked at each other three, four times, the silence stretching, my heart pounding.
"What the actual fuck?" I finally said, my voice sharp, breaking the silence.
Jonathan laughed, a nervous chuckle, sipping his wine, the red liquid swirling as he set the glass down with a clink. "Yeah... that’s what I thought when my phone rang this morning and I had to scramble to prepare the papers," he said, his voice lighter. "Whole thing felt like a fever dream," he added, his grin widening.
I exhaled, my breath shaky. "What if I get caught in some extreme problem? That’s the president’s wife, Jonathan. I could get killed or even labelled as a rapist later on. Who knows what can go wrong?" I said, my eyes narrowing, my sneakers pressing into the carpet, the reality sinking in—scandals, security, consequences far beyond the usual risks of this job.
Jonathan waved a hand, his grin steady, his voice calm but firm. "Nah, that won’t happen," he said, leaning forward, his hand clapping my back, the impact pushing me forward but meant to reassure. "How many high-profile women and celebrities have you fucked already? Chill, Ezra. You’re a pro." His eyes twinkled, his faith in me unshaken.
"Yeah, right..." I said, exhaling hard, leaning back into the couch, the leather creaking, my arms stretching wide, "So, it’s gonna be a long night," I said, my voice steadier, accepting the reality, the red room’s demands—submission, the client’s dominance—settling in.
"Yeah," Jonathan said, nodding, his wine glass glinting as he sipped again. "Might take the whole night, so be prepared. You good?" His eyes searched mine, his grin softer, his tone checking in, knowing the intensity of a red room gig, especially this one, wasn’t something to take lightly.
"I’m good," I said, my voice flat, "I can handle it," I added, my resolve hardening.